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Hacked Hearts
Hacked Hearts
Author: Myra A

Chapter 1.

Welcome to Hacked Hearts.

Excusem the spelling or grammar mistakes, because I am only human.

I hope you love this story and enjoy reading it. Don't be a silent reader, I'd love to know your views.

Okay, then see on the otherside ;)

Chapter 1: I don't do drugs, so I can have a bad habit.

"I hate Tuesdays!" I groaned, rolling over to the other side of the bed, snuggling into my Panda blanket.

"You say that for every single day, including Friday." Zivah muttered. "Now get up or you'll be late. As always."

I opened one eye to find her applying mascara, her mouth was open and her face was twisted in a weird way as she concentrated on applying it properly. It was honestly fun to watch her apply make-up, the way her face deformed and turned, the way her lips pressed against each other and how her eyes squinted. It was hilarious!

Born with black hair, dusky skin and honey brown eyes, Zivah Chopra was a stunner. She had coloured blond streaks and they looked striking on her wavy pitch black hair that reached just below her shoulders. Her face was slightly oval with heart shaped lips that made the perfect pout. Zivah, as her name said, was a light of brilliance.

"And turn off that fan would you, it's already cold and you are inside that fat blanket, all cuddled up." Zivah said, pressing her lips together to even out the red lipstick. She was wearing a white shirt and black skirt that reached up to her mid-thigh, looking smoking hot and yet professional.

I snuggled into the blanket, it truly was cold but it didn't matter. Whatever the season and weather, I needed the fan. Without it, I would just feel suffocated. Getting to snuggle into my fat soft blanket was a plus point.

"And get ready, would you? It's already 7.30." Zivah complained, walking out and turning off the fan behind her.

Dammit, I'll have to get up now to turn on the fan. After more than a year of living together, she knew almost everything about me and knew how to push the right buttons where and when. She was like a sister I never had, and although she annoyed me to the greatest extent and sometimes I wanted to murder her and hide the body where no one would find for decades, I still loved her. Guess that's what being best friends means, a hate-love sort of relationship. 

You want to kill that person but you can't live without that person.

Or she's just lucky I tolerate her.

I groaned as I let go off my blanket, pushing it to the side.

I sat on the bed, stretching my arms and rolling my shoulders. I grabbed my phone from under the pillow and swiped through the notifications.

Most were from my family's W******p group. 'How to make Biryani recipe' and 'Scarlet, the neighbour's new boyfriend, the sixth edition'

I didn't even bother to read the messages. Family W******p groups were the most annoying and utterly useless, the 'Good Morning' messages of birds and tress from old relatives were the worst.

There were a few messages from my other friends, asking how I was and if I had any plans to meet them this birth. No, I don't like humans.

A few likes on my I*******m and some unknown guy's direct message. So desperate these guys are I tell you.

Deciding to check it all later, I finally got off the bed and turned on the fan, grabbing and wearing a nearby zipper. "Ziv, don't you turn off the fan again." I shouted, walking into the kitchen.

"Myra Collins, wake up on time then." Ziv rolled her eyes. "French toast is now the table, make yourself some tea and get ready. I'm taking the car, you'll take the scooter?"

I simply nodded at her, waving and sending a flying kiss. I saw the French toast on my Panda plate and instantly felt hungry.

I rushed to the washroom, brushed and had a quick shower. Draping a towel over my body, I made some tea, had the French toast. Ziv really did good cooking, I would learn from her.

Tomorrow.

Saying that since a year now. I wonder when that tomorrow would come.

Procrastination is a bad habit.

But I don't do drugs, so I can have a bad habit.

After 30 minutes I was ready, wearing a dark blue jeans and floral full sleeve top. Grabbed some matching earrings, I somehow felt empty without earrings. Styled my hair in a half French braid and quickly applied mascara and red lipstick.

I grabbed the scooter keys and locked the door behind me, dropping the house keys into my purse.

Starting my white scooter which I was in love with, I finally reached the library.

I worked in the library on Tuesdays and weekends and had hacking classes on the remaining days. It was hectic but somehow I had managed to work it out. Ethical hacking was something I had developed a passion for during my late school days and working in the library was a major plus point, it was silent, no humans around and I could focus on my studies and got the required books for free. Yay me!

"Hello Dora." I smiled at the fifty year old sweet lady who cleaned the library. Sometimes I wanted to ask how and why would her parents name her Dora, of all the names in the world, Dora, they choose. I wonder what she had explored. My dirty mind did not help.

She smiled back. "Hi Myra, how are you?"

"Great." I grinned and turned on the computer. "How are you and the kids?"

"Good good. Lisa is now in Melbourne and Richard is very excited for his second child."

"Wow congratulations!" I had met Dora's family and they were really nice and down to earth. Richard's first child was a girl, Emma, and she was quite possibly the naughtiest girl I had met. She had so much energy and so many creative ideas to trouble her parents. I couldn't imagine parenting a girl like her, patience would be the most important thing as a parent. And that I truly lacked.

Dora kept telling her stories and each one made me laugh uncontrollably.

They had a cat named Tiger and Emma had dressed the poor cat in her pink top and pants and even added a hat for 'fashion purpose' and then she proceeded to take the cat out for a walk. The videos definitely got viral and Emma got the scolding of her life. Tiger now stays with Dora. The poor cat has been scarred for life.

Emma loved to draw, she was most certainly not artistic but she loved to draw, more like paint. And paint she did, while her nanny was asleep she painted the beige couch with black and blue crayons, the walls with toothpaste and the dining table with the florescent neon highlighters that she found in one of her father's drawer.

The nanny was fired the next day. Unfortunately they couldn’t fire Emma.

I quickly replied to a couple of mails regarding books, students asking if particular books were available and added a few new books in the library database.

Tuesday was a slow day at the library, there were very few people in sight and most of them were from the nearby university, looking around for project related books. Of course I would occasionally find couples, making out at the dusty corners of library. Some of them were just thirteen and it made my mind boggle at how they were comfortable doing all this. When I was thirteen, I preferred to watch Disney movies instead of going to parties. Well, I still do.

Probably why I am single. And happy too.

Now at the age of twenty three, I was smart, considered myself beautiful, because if no one says you are beautiful, you say it to yourself. I was ambitious and definitely didn't have time for a boyfriend or all the drama that came along with it.

Stay Single, Stay Satisfied!

Plus my past experience with a guy wasn't a happy one so it was safe to say I was petrified for life.

My thoughts were interrupted when my phone vibrated on the table, I couldn't remember when was the last time I had removed my phone from vibrate. I preferred it that way, at least then I could use the excuse of not hearing my phone ring every time I didn't want to talk to someone and missed that call. Mostly, that someone was my mom. "Sorry mom, the phone was on silent, didn't hear it." Was a very frequent excuse I used.

I glanced at the caller Id, Ziv. I frowned wondering why she was calling. She was supposed to be at the hotel.

"Ziv?" I questioned, picking up the call.

"I hate him!" She screamed into the call.

My phone almost slipped at how loud she was. Shit, I rubbed my ear, hoping my hearing was still intact. "Who?"

"Him." She said in distaste. As if I was a mind reader and instantly knew who this him would be. Zivah had a range of guys around her and to guess who this him would be, I'd have to be a mind reader.

"Who is him Zivah?"

"Sebastian Ricci!"

I felt my jaw drop and blinked twice. "Ricci?" I questioned, wondering if I had heard right.

"Yes him." She gritted her teeth. I could feel her frustration and anger through the phone. My God, when Zivah is pissed, which she is half of the time, it's the end of the world.

But Sebastian? He was a Ricci, one of the world's richest bachelors. He owned a series of 5 star hotels all around the world including the one Zivah was a receptionist at. Although I didn't know much about him because I stayed away from the celebrity section of news, I knew enough to know that he was a big flirt, had been engaged once and was someone most girls with brains should stay away from.

"What did he do?" I asked, my curiosity at its peak now. Why would a stinky rich guy piss off a mere receptionist? How could he? The interaction would be zero to none.

"He!" She exclaimed furiously, "He shouted at me, in front of everyone and-" Her words were drowned as I heard someone banging the door on her side. She cussed, "Fuck! He's here!"

I instantly got tensed, what was going on? "Ziv! Are you okay?"

"Yes, look I'll call you later. I have to open the door before he breaks it down." Zivah said, "Shut up, I'm opening it." She screamed on the other side, I'm guessing at Sebastian. And then the call was cut.

Well she's getting fired!

I sat on the rolling chair and pressed my face into my palms. What did Zivah get into? And how? And now she'd have to hunt another job. Oh lovely, now she'd complain about this for a whole month. Messing with an Italian Billionaire, what was she thinking and what did he do that she locked herself in a room?

I looked up when I heard the library door creak open, I really had to oil that door. I glanced up to the most beautiful sight I had seen, a man, correction, a hot man in a navy blue suit.

I felt my jaw drop and my throat go dry. Well, hello beautiful, would you like some dessert? Dressed in a three piece navy blue suit, a perfect jawline, light beard over it, blue eyes sparkling with embarrassment, lips so plush and yummy, and a body that could turn a straight man gay and a lesbian straight. He was a sight to see. I vaguely thought of how beautiful his parents must be to create this masterpiece.

I hadn't realized I was staring until he snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Hello, are you sleeping with your eyes so wide?"

I blinked and frowned, "Yes, I sleep with my eyes open."

He paused, surprised at the sarcastic comment. I bet he was used to drooling women and passing orders. I couldn't blame him, if I was that good looking, I wouldn't even get up from my throne.

I cleared my throat. "How may I help you?" Would you like a kiss? I mentally groaned at the thoughts I was having. Dear Dirty Mind, stop it would you?

He pressed his lips, looking down and scratching his neck, seeming embarrassed. "Um, do you" he paused, looking around but not once meeting my eyes. I raised my eyebrows, jeez what did he want? And why didn't he just order it online if it was that humiliating? "-do you. Can I borrow your phone?"

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What?" did I hear him right?

He pointed at the small phone lying on the desk. "Your phone, my battery died and I have to make an urgent call, now."

I shrugged, passing him my phone. He quickly grabbed the phone barely touching me, he typed a number that he seemed to know by heart. The only numbers I knew were mine, mom's and Zivah's. Without my phone and contact list, I would be a lost cause.

He pressed his phone to his ear and turned away a little, I might be a little jealous of that phone. He groaned as no one picked up the call, trying the number again.

"Fuck!" he cussed loudly.

Instantly I hushed him. "Library."

He looked around the empty library and rolled his eyes, "There's no one here."

I shrugged, "Doesn't matter. Rules are rules."

He ignored me, tapping his feet impatiently. Staring at my phone, probably waiting for the other person to call back. After about 30 seconds, he called back.

Well, this looks urgent. "Is someone in the hospital? Or not well?" I questioned.

He scowled at me, "No, why would you say that?"

"Well you seem serious and in a haste."

"It's a deal I have to close before the Chinese do."

I didn't know what to reply to that so I stayed quite. Sitting on my chair and taking my time to notice the sexy impatient man in front of me. He had to be rich, not all could afford the suit he was wearing and that watch, it looked like real gold. My eyes unconsciously glanced at this ring finger, empty, hurray!

He rubbed his chin, clearly frustrated and then called the number again. Well the Chinese definitely had him riled up. "Hello." He barked into the call. Good, finally someone picked up the call.

He paused, his stance stiff and I noticed his hands forming a fist. Oh dear! "What?" his voice was now dead, void of emotion. "How did they know?"

I could hear his teeth gritting against each other and I pressed lower into the chair, now terrified of this man. He looked ready to murder. The other person didn't even get to complete the sentence before he screamed, "Fuck it!" and flung my phone, my only phone, at the wall to the left.

My mouth fell open and I blinked, once, twice, thrice. My gaze on the now broken phone. I had just bought it last month and I wanted to scream and shout but I was too much in shock. Did he really just throw a phone? My phone?

"Shit sorry, I forgot that's yours." My eyes shifted to him, he was picking up my broken phone but I could see he was still furious. Oh he didn't even know what furious meant, he would see it now.

I stood up slowly, my nose flaring. "You broke my phone!" I accused, my eyes narrowing at him.

He stopped, my broken phone lying on his palm, I could see the broken screen and it was going to cost me a fortune.

"You broke my phone!" I repeated, an intense pit of fire and anger bubbling inside me.

"I see that." He merely said, dropping the phone on the table, the screen promptly broke into two and fell of the phone.

I took a deep breath. "Buy me a new one."

He blinked, "What?"

"You look filthy rich I am sure you can afford one easily, plus you broke it so you buy me a new one." I reasoned out, fully expecting him to say no.

I was pleasantly surprised to see him nod, take out a check book and sign a blank check. "You can buy whichever you want."

Well that was easy, now I can buy an iPhone Xs Max or maybe XR, who cares, maybe I'll buy them both. And that Ralph Lauren dress as well. And maybe a house.

I quickly grabbed the check, afraid he might change his mind. "Thanks." I muttered.

He smiled, a half smile that made him look even hotter if that was possible. And turned to walk out, but he suddenly turned back, staring at the bunch of ethical hacking books piled up on the table. "You study these?" he questioned, disbelief in his eyes.

"Yes." I answered.

"So you know hacking?" he now seemed interested and that confused me.

"Well, I am still learning but yes, I like to think I am good at it."

He grinned, a full blown grin, which showed his perfect teeth. I was left dazzled for just a second. He took out a small contact card and a pen whose tip was probably made of gold and jot down a number. "You are hired. Call at this number tomorrow at 9am sharp." And with this parting sentence, he walked out, the door screeching shut behind him.

It took me a few seconds to grasp his words. Hired? Call? What? I grabbed the card and my eyes swept through it, Bianchi Enterprises. Scrawled below it in a messy handwriting were ten digits.

My mind immediately registered the words, Bianchi Enterprises, is one of the biggest leading companies in the field of Information Technology. It was every computer geeks dream to get into this company, the options were pretty low of getting hired and from what I heard, and the salary was sky rocketing.

I quickly breathed in and out, before tying the Bianchi name in G****e with shaky hands. And instantly popped an image of Alex Bianchi, the heir of Bianchi Enterprises. 27 years old, net worth of $80 billion, most suited bachelor and also the man who just broke my phone.

I blinked, sitting on the chair before I fainted and stared at the broken phone, if I was to just say that Alex Bianchi touched and broke this phone, I'd get at least $10,000.

I touched the card again, my eyes automatically memorizing the number.

A hot guy came in, broke my phone, offered me a job and he is the richest man and the one of the sexiest men alive, what a day.

I couldn't help but wonder what exactly was I hired for?

Tomorrow, I promised myself, I would find it out tomorrow.

I was itching to call that number right now but one, I didn't have phone to call and two, I knew rich people like punctuality, and I had read enough romantic books to know that.

I couldn't sleep, my mind reeling with the thoughts of a particular blue eyed man.

What did I get myself into?

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